The Waltz: The Search for Israfel
by Kamaka
Summary: Constantine was right when he felt something coming it was what would come after Mammon took over this Plane. The greatest war in the history of any world. Check reviews for message from author
1. This is what you wake up to

John Constantine lay stretched out on the bed. He looked better than he had almost three months ago when he was dying. His once gaunt frame had filled out a little and the dark circles under his eyes were almost gone. His skin was still as pale as always but what did one expect from a man who sleeps all day?

Chas Chandler smiled grimly as he watched his former mentor sleep, feeling slightly stalker-like but knowing he had to wait. He watched Constantine roll over in bed, watching the dream that was being sent to him.

Suddenly he sat up, gasping for air, his eyes wide. In his left hand he suddenly had a very wicked looking knife that was pointed directly at Chas.

"Woah okay, John put the knife down—" Chas said slowly backing away holding his hands up.

"Who—" Constantine began, "Chas?"

"Yes it's me!" Chas yelped as Constantine brought the knife up.

Constantine studied the thing in front of him. It wore white cloths, artfully slashed to allow the massive snowy white wings that spanned from it's back. It looked like Chas, except it seemed to glow in the near pitch black.

"Chas?" Constantine asked again.

"Yes!" Chas cried furiously.

"How the hell are you here?" Constantine demanded.

"When Gabriel was cast out of heaven he needed to be replaced. Well apparently He thought I was the best for the job," Chas explained.

"Gabriel was a half-breed," Constantine said, "how can you cross into this Plane?"

"All Archangel's can," Chas said, "we can only be seen by humans when we have a mission from Him."

"And you do?" Constantine asked grimly.

"As a matter of fact, yes," Chas said looking pointedly at the knife. Constantine sighed and threw it onto the bed where it landed without a sound. Chas folded his wings and sighed.

"Well? Are you going to tell me this 'mission from God'? Or is it some big secret?" Constantine asked throwing a shirt on over his pants.

"Gabriel didn't turn against Him willingly. Humans aren't the only ones demons can whisper to. Gabriel went insane. He wants revenge on Satan for what he did. Since Satan wants you, He sent me to make sure you don't mess up badly enough for Him not to let you into Heaven."

"So you're my Guardian Angel?" Constantine asked with a smirk.

"You could put it that way," Chas said, "now we have to go."

"We? Go where? It's 6 am, all the normal people are asleep," Constantine said.

"Who said anything about visiting a normal person?" Chas asked, "you need to get to Angela now."

"I don't take orders from 'Him'," Constantine said tightly. Chas bit back a yell of frustration.

"Listen to me. This isn't about Him anymore. Something much worse is coming and you need to get to Angela before anyone knows I'm here."

"Alright, alright, but—" Constantine fell silent as someone banged on his door. Puzzled he opened it to see Angela standing outside shifting her weight from one foot to another and biting her lip nervously.

"Constantine—John," Angela breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing the familiar brown eyes.

"Angela?" Constantine was surprised, to say the least, at seeing her in front of his door. She was wearing a black suit that screamed 'do not mess with me'. Her hair was pulled back severely showing how pale her skin was. She was thinner and there were dark smudges under her eyes.

Constantine opened the door. Angela ducked inside muttering her thanks. She stopped a few feet inside and leaned against a chair, taking a shuddering breath that made her entire frame shake.

"What's wrong?" Constantine asked, suddenly feeling worried. In their brief phone conversations her voice had sounded the same, but then again he had been calling from old payphones.

"I don't know," Angela said, her back still towards him, "I can't sleep, I can't eat—every time I close my eyes I see—" she trailed off, her eyes misting over before they rolled up and she crumpled to the floor.

Or she would have if Constantine hadn't caught her.

He picked the psychic up and carried her to his bed, pushing the knife away. He lay the back of his hand against her forehead and drew back almost immediately. She was burning up and shaking. Cold sweat was beading on her forehead and she groaned softly.

"What's wrong with her?" Constantine asked, "I've never seen anything like this before, even in people I've performed exorcisms on."

"You've never seen someone almost bear Mammon," Chas pointed out, "or un-repress a powerful gift, or—"

"I get it," Constantine said, "what do we do?"

"She has to wake up before we can do anything," Chas said. He looked at the door suddenly. Constantine turned to face it too. Standing with his back to them was an Angel.

He looked to be a man in his mid twenties. Dark hair fell over eyes that glowed red in the non-existent light. Tan skin contrasted with the dark reddish gold wings that stretched from his back. He wore all white, slashed in the fashion of Chas's clothing. Chas nodded to him and he returned the greeting.

"Constantine this is the Archangel Michael," Chas said.

"Hello Mr. Constantine," Michael said extending a hand, "I've been looking forward to meeting you for a long time."


	2. The Fools

http: for once in his life, was speechless. Almost robotically he shook the Archangel's hand, repressing a shudder as odd energy shot through him. Michael sighed and looked at Chas and Constantine.

"He didn't send you, did he?" Chas asked.

"No," came the flat reply from the Archangel, "I'm here on my own terms—as always."

"Why?" Chas asked.

"To bury my brother," Michael said simply, "I brought Raphael with me."

Raphael stepped forward through the door. Dressed in the same slashed white, his wings were pale gold that went with his white-blond hair and sky blue eyes.

"Chas," Raphael said nodding his greetings which Chas returned.

"Raphael is here with me, not with Him," Michael explained, "we need you to tell us where Gabriel is. Since he is no longer an Archangel we cannot sense him."

Michael and Raphael materialized out of the room and into the cell. Gabriel was sitting with his eyes closed, head leaning against the wall. The doctors had removed what little was left of his wings. He was dressed ironically in all white clothing.

Michael strode forward, grabbed the Fallen Angel by the throat and slammed him against the wall.

"What were you thinking!" the Archangel roared, his voice echoing off the walls, "I turn my back for one moment and you throw your lot in with Mammon!"

"Human's aren't the only one with free will Brother," Gabriel said, his voice eerily calm.

"We took an oath," Michael said, "does that mean nothing to you?"

"I took a different oath," Gabriel replied, "I swore loyalty to my Brother."

"You really are insane," Michael said, his eyes filled with sadness. He let Gabriel slide to the floor. Gabriel stood up and brushed himself off. He threw back his head and let out a peal of laughter that sounded like bells chiming.

"I am not the insane one," he cried, "what kind of life do you lead? Taking orders from Him? What has he ever done for you? You talk about taking an Oath, about loyalty? I talk about thinking for yourself. I might have been the first to rebel but how many do you think will follow me? God shut the door on me but He opened a window for everyone else!"

"Michael—" Raphael began, "Michael—"

Michael followed Raphael's gaze and felt slightly sick. Standing against the wall was what appeared to be a man in his late twenties. His skin was tan, his hair was dark and fell over slightly red eyes. Spanning from his back was a pair of black and red reptile like wings. He was dressed in black cloths that had been slashed to allow for them.

"Hello Brother," he said looking at Michael.

"Lucifer," Raphael sputtered, "what did you do to Gabriel?"

"I?" Lucifer laughed, "I did nothing," he put an arm around Gabriel, "he rebelled on his," he put his lips to Gabriel's ear, "own free will." He fixed Michael with his gaze, "you do know what that is, don't you?"

In a flash he was in front of Michael, looking into the Archangel's eyes.

"Oh my dear sweet Brother, I've won this one. Gabriel belongs to me now," Lucifer hissed, "I think he'll make a fine Devil, don't you? Someone who knows all of God's little secrets? All of yours?"

In an instant, Michael grabbed the front of Gabriel's shirt and lifted him high into the air. His wings stretched outwards and he began to pray in a language that no-one knew anymore. Light filled the room, forcing everyone to close their eyes against it. When it cleared Michael was standing in the center, arm raised.

Gabriel was gone, but so was Lucifer.

Michael sighed his eyes fixed on the roof, or something beyond it.

"He knows?" Raphael asked.

"He doesn't care," Michael said, his voice slightly bitter. Turning he vanished. Raphael looked up.

"He doesn't mean that," he explained to the roof, "he's just hurting right now, I'll talk to him."

Raphael vanished as well.

Back at Constantine's apartment, Angela sat up with a gasp and looked around. Sitting in one corner, sound asleep, was Chas with his snow white wings wrapped around him. Sitting in the other was a healthier looking Constantine.

The scene changed and Angela whimpered involuntarily.

The small sound woke Constantine who saw her sitting up in bed, curled up over her knees shaking. He walked over and knelt in front of her, putting his hands on either one of her shoulders.

"Angela," he said, making his voice less harsh in case she wasn't possessed, he got no response, "Angela, look at me."

Angela's head jerked up and she found herself staring into warm brown eyes. Angela tried to get her emotions under control but didn't succeed and before she could stop herself she had thrown her arms around Constantine and buried her face in his shoulder.

Constantine swallowed as the beautiful psychic threw her arms around him. Unsurely, he put his arms around her and hugged her back. For a moment, they just held each other, then Angela slowly pulled back.

"Hi," she said, "sorry about—" she motioned generally, "that."

Constantine nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment.

"And you completely showed no regard for—"

"Raphael! Shut up!"

"I'd be surprised if he didn't just give you to Lucifer for that!"

Michael and Raphael appeared in front of Constantine and Angela, in the middle of a very heated argument.

"Are you deaf?" Michael demanded, "did you not hear what Gabriel said?"

"I don't generally listen to the insane," Raphael spat.

"Gabriel was not insane and you know it," Michael snarled, "and if you were paying attention you would have heard him."

"And what did the not insane betraying former Archangel say!" Raphael roared, his voice echoing off the walls."

"Angels and demons are rebelling you fool! The Oaths are being broken left and right, they mean nothing now. There are no rules anymore," Michael said, his voice suddenly weary.

"What are you talking about?" Raphael demanded, "there are always rule! You're the leader of the Heavenly armies, you of all people should know that."

"Gabriel, Gabriel went to Lucifer on his own free will," Michael laughed bitterly, "all this time we've been trying to prevent Mammon from coming to earth because we thought he would bring Judgment Day. All this time, hundreds of years—wasted."

"Would you please tell me what's going on?" Raphael cried.

"Mammon won't bring about Judgment Day," Michael sighed, "we will."


	3. Hail to the Thief

James Newman walked down the well lit corridor, his eyes glancing briefly at the many insane patients through the window in the cell. Standing just over six feet tall with curly brown hair and dark brown eyes, he looked every bit the respectable doctor he was not.

He stepped into an elevator and waited for the doors to close, saying a silent prayer that no-one would come in. The doors slid shut leaving James alone in the elevator. He pressed the button for the floor below the roof. As the elevator lurched up, James put his black-gloved finger over the emergency stop button.

Just before the elevator got to the floor, he pushed it. Only practice kept him on his feet as the elevator slammed to a stop. James pulled off the white lab coat and suit jacket. Pulling off his tie and shirt, he soon stood in the elevator dressed in black pants, combat boots and a black t-shirt.

James the thief was back.

Studying the rail that ran around the elevator, James realized he'd have about two minuets to get on it, open the panel to the top of the elevator and get onto the roof. Cracking his knuckles, he took a breath and climbed onto the rail.

Quickly pushing open the panel, he climbed on top of the elevator. Pulling out a small flashlight, he turned it on and stuck it in his mouth, shining it on the closed doors. Prying them apart, he climbed through them just as the elevator over-rode his command and slid down.

James rolled onto the roof and stood up, brushing off his pants and taking the flashlight out of his mouth.

"Did you get it?"

James turned around to see a man leaning against the wall, his brown hair slicked back. He was wearing an impeccable grey pin-stripped suit that went with his oddly-colored eyes. In his left hand, he was rolling a large coin on his knuckles. James pulled the tube from the pocket of his pants and extended a hand.

"Money first," he said.

The man tossed the coin up into the air. James automatically caught it, dropping the tube in the process.

"Take that to John Constantine and tell him an old friend want to say hello. Give him this address and you'll get your money," he said, picking up the tube. Turning he walked away, leaving James standing on the roof staring off into space.

"Could you repeat that?" Raphael said in a very high-pitched voice.

"I heard it just fine," a new voice said, although no-one was visible, "quite the drama with Gabriel."

Black smoke swirled up and materialized into a woman. She wad dressed in black that had been artfully slashed to show her skin, but unlike the others, she had no wings. Her hair was dark and cut short, revealing her slightly red eyes. She was leaning against the window, her arms crossed and her eyes half-closed.

"Azrael," Michael said, his voice edged with venom, "what are you doing here?"

Azrael, the Angel of Death, untangled herself and sauntered over, her lips turning up into a mocking smile.

"Who's time is it?" Raphael questioned, his fingers tensing.

"No-one's brother dear," Azrael said in fake innocence, "I just came from a collection and I didn't have time to change. People come so much more easily when I appear like this," she said motioning to her clothing, "although it does tend to get a bit chilly."

"Then why are you here?" Michael repeated.

"One of my helpers," Azrael began, "came to me with the most surprising news: Gabriel's in Heaven."

"Gabriel was about to go to Lucifer," Michael said, "I am not going to allow the Kingdom I have sworn to protect crumble because some Archangel feels the need to backstab us."

"And who are you to dictate what side someone is on?" Azrael questioned.

"I would hardly expect you to understand," Michael shot back.

"Oh I get it," Azrael said, stepping forward. With each step, her shape changed until, standing before them, was a man with long black hair, reddish eyes and long black feathered wings. He was dressed in black clothing that had been cut to fit his wings, "you're still bitter about that whole 'Lucifer' thing."

"Azrael!" Raphael said sharply, asserting himself for the first time, "that's enough."

Both Azrael and Michael had extended their wings, their fists clenched. Both were breathing hard and the air seemed to crackle around them.

"Go on, Leader of the Archangels. See if you can kill the Archangel of Death," Azrael hissed, a grin playing on his lips.

"Michael—" Raphael started forward. Michael's eyes narrowed before he closed his wings and took a step back, leaving Azrael standing there, waiting for a fight that wasn't going to come. Instead of acting angry, Azrael smiled and folded his wings before vanishing in a plume of black smoke.

"I swear, Azrael will be the death of us all!" Raphael cried in frustration.

Angela laughed for the first time since collapsing in Constantine's apartment. Though she tried her best to cover it, both Archangels turned to look at her. Something sparked in Michael's eyes.

"We found the key," Michael said turning to Raphael.

"The key to what?" Raphael demanded.

"To finding Israfel," he said.

"Whoa, whoa, back up a minuet," Chas spoke up, "you want to find Israfel? As in the Archangel needed to bring about the Judgment Day, the Trumpet blower? The one Archangel that even God and Satan cannot find?"

"Yes," Michael said.

Raphael laughed.

"How, pray tell, are you going to find Israfel if God himself cannot?" he questioned. Michael smiled slowly, something that silenced Raphael.

"Through one of his Blessed Ones," Michael said.

"What?" Constantine asked, his voice gruff.

"Each person is Blessed by a certain Angel, as in their Guardian Angels. But some, a handful, are Blessed Ones. They have been chosen by either Azrael or Israfel. These are unique and more cursed than Blessed in my opinion," Raphael said, "and our great Leader here thinks we found one of them."

"No, our great Leader knows we have found one of them," he said. Raphael followed his gaze and let out a groan as everything became clear.

Israfel, Angel

Isabel, Angela.

Raphael opened and closed his mouth several times, but no sound came out. The silence that settled over the room was deafening until someone knocked on the door.

"If this is another Archangel I'm going to need a bigger apartment," Constantine muttered walking over to the door.


	4. The Return of an Old Friend

Standing in the doorway was a woman.

A petite woman with cropped blond hair, sky blue eyes and pink lips

Resisting the urge to slam the door in her face, Constantine raised an eyebrow.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"Emma Chandler," she said in a slightly southern accent, "I believe you knew my cousin, Chas."

"I can't help you," Constantine said pushing the door close. Emma held up something in her right hand. For a minuet Constantine thought it was a police badge and grinned inwardly at the terrible irony of the situation. But then he saw what it really was and he felt slightly sick.

It was a cigarette lighter.

Or, more specifically, it was his cigarette lighter, gold ornamenting and all.

"I think you can," Emma said, "I found this on Chas's tombstone and unless you to go to jail for child prostitution you'll let me in."

Constantine closed the door, undid the chain, and opened it. Emma walked inside, looking around. Constantine realized how this must seem to her: him in his pajamas, a woman half-dressed on a bed and three men standing around.

"You really are sick," she muttered under her breath, "Well Mr. Constantine?"

"You came in here," Constantine pointed out.

"Yeah, I can see I'm interrupting," Emma scoffed, "Mr. Constantine, my favorite aunt is about to have a breakdown because her son was found a block from a psychiatric ward with a broken neck and an insane religious fanatic claiming to be a Fallen Angel."

Angela suddenly felt her breath leave her. She was falling down that impossibly long tunnel again, past colors and shapes. Finally she landed on her feet, in a dusty crater that smelled like roses and sulpher. The basic setting was the same as the last fifty times she was there, only her location was different. The burning, skeletal buildings were further in the background.

In front of her was Satan, his suit immaculately white in a cruel twist of fate. Standing in front of him was a man in his twenties, clutching a spear that sparkled in the light. His curly brown hair was whipped around and pounded by dust, his clothing was torn, but he stood strait and his eyes burned with defiance.

Standing next to him was Emma. She was wearing a torn dress and her blond hair was messy. In her hands she had the Spear of Destiny which sparkled as well. Her blue eyes were as defiant as the other mans.

"Give me the Spears!" Satan hissed.

"No," was the tense reply.

"Well then," Satan shrugged. Fire flew up and filled Angela's vision. She shut her eyes. When she opened them she was still on the bed. Only now all eyes were on her. Swallowing, Angela forced herself to breath normally.

"What did you see?" Michael asked.

"Her," Angela said, "with the Spear of Destiny."

Michael nodded and the door locked, trapping Emma inside. Her blue eyes narrowed, trying to look angry instead of scared. Of course, Emma couldn't see the giant wings spanning from their backs, she could only see two tall men advancing towards her.

"Stop it!" Chas said suddenly.

Michael and Raphael turned to face the youngest Archangel who looked at them with a mix of sadness and anger on his face.

"She works for Lucifer," Michael said.

"She wouldn't do that," Chas protested, "she may not believe in you but she's a good person!"

"There is no such thing as a neutral party," Raphael said, "I tried to teach you that—Uriel tried to teach you that—but you won't listen! Even Azrael and Israfel have sides, although they change frequently."

"So what? If she's not for you then she's against you?"

"Yes!" Raphael yelled, "and it would be in your best interest to accept that."

"No," Chas said, his voice suddenly becoming heated, "no, I won't! I see what you're black and white world does to everyone else—it forces them into a little comforting box! And it's not true," Chas continued taking a deep breath, "now get away from her."

&

Lucifer stood in a room of polished black stone, smooth as silk. Outside flames licked at the damned. Inside it was eerily quiet and calm. Dressed impeccably as always, Lucifer was adorned in black silk pants and no shirt, his dragon-like wings folded neatly on his back.

A few feet away, a man waited. He was dressed in a perfect suit, his hair slicked back artfully. He stood strait, his hands clasped behind him. His eyes were fixed on a point over Lucifer's shoulder.

"What, were you thinking?" Lucifer hissed, "releasing Mammon? Do you have any idea what would have happened if you succeeded?"

"I apologize my lord, I only sought redemption."

"Redemption?" Lucifer threw back his head and laughed, the bitter sound edged with a hint of something more angelic, "you sought redemption with that God?"

"Yes," he said, his eye sparkling with an unshed tear.

" I expected better of you," Lucifer said, "you know the Balance must be kept. If we take over the Third Plane without the Spear of Asel then we are doomed. Did you get what I asked?" the man extended his hand, the cardboard tube inside. Lucifer opened it and pulled out a rolled out manila folder stamped with the words Dodson, Isabel.

"Well well well," Lucifer said, "it seems you're not completely useless."

Drawing back his hand, he threw a ball of black light at the man who collapsed to his knees with a ragged cry as the light hit him. The suit fell away to reveal a well muscled torso that now rippled with something pushing it's way out. He yelled again as his back split to reveal a pair of black leathery wings. Then the silence came again. He pushed himself to his feet and flexed his wings experimentally.

"Come Balthazar, we have work to do."

"Of course my lord."

"My lord!" someone, a low demon, came running up to him, "my lord Mammon has escaped."

"What!" Lucifer roared, making the walls trembling in fear.

"He vanished. Your Guards are all dead. Someone went to inform the Dark One."

"Balthazar," Lucifer rounded on the demon, "find Mammon. You, tell Satan that if he cannot handle his own spawn then I will."

With a powerful kick off the ground, Lucifer took to the skies of Hell and vanished. Balthazar turned to the demon who was still staring at the sky.

"Go to Satan and give him the message before I brand it onto you and give him that instead," Balthazar snarled. The demon took off. Balthazar looked around and let out a roar. After a moment of silence the roar was echoed back to him and two giant shapes came towards him: Gaspar, and Melchior, his two most trusted friends next to Lucifer himself.


End file.
